MARS
by Miyuki Inakamono
Summary: How does one fight off the demons inside one's head? Seishirou's personal struggles, from his own POV. First of many (16, not counting this one and the epilouge) chapters...


MARS  
by Miyuki Inakamono  
  
AN: Inspired by the Gackt album Su and Sei strangeness... This is gonna be a long series, so just bear with me, and the parts will be long so I'll end up with the exact amount of parts as I will allow myself for this... This'll be difficult to write as well, so expect it to take a while to finish... But yes, this is inspired by Gackt's MARS album, so listen to it if you want while you read. They aren't mine, trust me.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Prologue -- Ares  
  
  
Peaceful.  
  
That's the only real word I can think to describe that day; everything came together -- the wind, the sakura petals, the clouds -- so peacefully that it was almost mythical to look at. As a result, I took my time walking through Ueno Park, pondering exactly my whole purpose in the scheme of things, wondering if it were at all possible for me to find someone that could explain it all to me. Where did I fit in with all this peace? If it were like this, how come I even exist? My presence shouldn't be needed if it were all like this all the time...  
  
Of course, it could be that my presence is needed to disrupt this peace. There is always yin and yang, not just yin. Things could be like this, all peaceful, but things would never be quite right. There must always be a darker side to everything, and I guess that's where I fit in. I'm the darkness; the shadows on the ground during a sunny day. Sure seems as though I create lots of shadows. Usually there's just the ones inside my head though, ripping my thoughts to pieces as if I'm not supposed to have them.  
  
Who would I be if I lacked my thoughts? If I didn't think, I'd just be a mindless droid. It's my ability to think that keeps me from going mad. If there were ever a fifteen year old that continually battled the demons I do, they would have long gone insane.   
  
Then again, there's no one to say I'm not insane. I must question my own sanity on those nights I'm out here, instead of doing homework or talking to friends. Out here killing. And liking it -- that's what's so strange, I like it. Killing isn't something I particularly hate. It's odd to think of it like that, but then again, how should I know how the innocents feel? I was never innocent.  
  
One who is dark is just born that way.  
  
But it was a peaceful day. Night. My wandering led me to darkness, as always, standing under that tree that was always in bloom; reaching for the moon as if it was the cause of all it's torment through the years. What torment? The Tree knows naught of torment -- it puts it all on me. I take on everything that those souls would have lived with. It's the price I pay for my killing. And I kill the innocents. It makes it easier to live. If I killed those who lived guilty, the demons in my head would have drove themselves mad, leaving me defenseless. I feel sympathy, knowing that they will die before their time. I feel their anguish as I push my hand through their chest. I feel their anguish, and I sympathize, but it never stops me.  
  
Who has ever felt that way for me? Who has ever showed me sympathy? They just assume that I'm cold and heartless. I'm not; I'm much more than that. Cold and heartless was my mother. I refused to let my self turn out the way she did -- insane. She really was crazy, no matter what people thought. I knew her better than anyone. I don't want to turn out the way she did; I keep hoping that one day I'll be able to live in peace with not only this beautiful day, but with myself as well, and leave the disruption to someone else.  
  
It was a peaceful night.  
  
I sat under the tree, wallowing in my own self pity as I wiped the blood off my hand and onto it's trunk. It didn't mind. Actually, it prefers the blood be wiped on it than the grass around it's trunk. So much anguish tossed onto me... I sat there, staring into the black night over my head, watching a star flash under the moon, falling to the ground.  
  
Someone was walking towards me.  
  
I dropped my head, looking; a small boy, he looked about six, was walking towards me. How cute. How... peaceful. His innocence... Oh, so much innocence.  
  
But there was something else there.  
  
That boy was more than innocent, but he didn't know it. I saw past his clouded mind... If only he knew how dark he really was...  
  
What's worse -- being dark and knowing it, or being dark and totally oblivious to it? Do you know when the demons tear you apart inside, or do you stay oblivious to it as well, and suddenly you're in a padded room with a straight jacket on while the people in white feed you chicken noodle soup? Or is it worse knowing they are, and then finally giving in and watching as everything collapses in around you?  
  
Will I ever give in? Will I finally just let them have my mind to do as they wish? What would become of me then?  
  
I won't think about it.  
  
But the boy looked innocent. He was a very fair young boy; ebony hair billowed around his small face, bright green eyes looking upwards as he walked. He wasn't paying the least bit of attention to anyone, much less the crazy teenager under the sakura tree. His skin was pale, very pale, he looked almost as though he was sick. And I think he was, in some strange way that was hidden from me. He was dressed in a traditional outfit a few sizes too big for him. He kept absently reaching up and pulling the sleeve up his shoulders. Terribly cute.  
  
Terribly oblivious.  
  
I stood. Innocence... I looked at him a minute, studied him, something needed to click--  
  
Oh.  
  
Well... Fake innocence be damned -- what choice do I have? How do I get away from fate? Demons can be fought easily, if one has enough strength, but destiny is a stubborn bastard, and I was clueless on how to save myself from such anguish...  
  
A smile crawled onto my face. The boy stopped walking and looked up at me. "...Konban wa," he said, his small voice filling the silence in the park.  
  
"Konban wa," I answered slowly. He was terribly cute, that he was. How to avoid...  
  
"The sakura trees are so pretty, ne?" Didn't his parents ever teach him to never speak to strangers?  
  
"Hai, they are... Do you know why the petals are pink?" How to avoid...  
  
"Iie... Why?"  
  
I got down on one knee. So innocent, so oblivious, so cute, how to avoid... "Under the sakura trees are bodies, little one. The trees feed off the blood, and their usually white petals are forever tainted with the blood."  
  
The little boy's jaw dropped. Then again, was it a boy? His features were almost too fair, his voice too soft, "Do they hurt?" too sweet to be a little boy.  
  
He was.  
  
How to avoid, how to avoid pain...  
  
I smiled. "Let me make a bet with you, okay?"  
  
The little boy nodded. "Okay!" He seemed to think I was playing a game. I wish I was.  
  
"Little Sumeragi child, I'll make this bet with you." I lifted one of his small hands into my own, still stained with blood. I looked at it as I talked, feeling the boy's eyes on me as I did so. "If you can show me, within the period of one year, to be decided on my terms, the demons that tear you apart inside, I will let you live. If you can show me your darkness is in there, somewhere, and is worth saving, I will. However... If you are as innocent as you appear, young Sumeragi, I will take your life as my own and you can help the petals stay forever pink."  
  
That being said, I lifted his small, pale white hand to my face (it was trembling, was he afraid of me?) kissing it softly. With the flaring of an inverted pentagram, he forgot everything and anything said to him that dark, peaceful evening.  
  
***  
  
Hm... This will be fun, methinks. 


End file.
